Tag Archives: Old Grey^


Those weirdos again, Philip Strevor thinks in a dream. Southwest corner table.

A knock at the office door, then. Small but firm. “Daddy?”

Man, school’s out already?


Well at least she was a quiet kid, Philip Strevor consoles himself. Always reading that darn blue book, though. When he asks what it’s about, she just says, “stars,” sometimes, “stars and space.” But never just “space”, oddly. “Stars… and space.”

“Honey, why don’t you play with your new friend Anorexia out back in the alley. Get away from that book for a while.”

“Spica,” she then uttered, still reading. “Did you know that Spica is such a close binary star that each component is egg shaped due to the gravity pull, and cannot be resolved even with the most powerful telescope?”

“No I didn’t know that.” No more oddball star facts from you, missy, he then thought. He had to get these accounting numbers to Casey One Hole by tomorrow morning. And Philip’s sure he’d bug him about them all the time they were playing golf later on today. He always had to let him win, especially on that prized par 3 hole on the back 9 — the origin of his nickname. He learned that the hard way.

The kid relented. “Oh all right,” she said, putting down the book and heading for the door. “I’ll go find my *new friend* Anorexia.”

Good kid, Philip Strevor thinks again. But the crazies are now sitting at a table in the opposite corner of the building. How’d *that* happen? What’s going on?”

Almost the instant the doors shut behind his kid, more knocks, larger but softer. “Dearest?”

Oh God, Philip thinks. My mother. What does *she* want?


“What’s this trash you’re reading, Philip? ‘Celestial Handbook’? I bet it’s a celestial handbook.”

“That *trash* is what you gave your granddaughter 2 Christmas’ back. The one she still can’t put down even now.”

“Oh.” She scrutinized the cover more closely, then drew back. “Well it’s good for her to read. Keeps her out of the alleys. Where is she anyway? Wanisa said it’s your turn to keep her.” Philip feels the noose tightening around his neck. Might as well say “cut here”. Oh wait… it does.

“Mom, I’m *so* busy. Can we talk later?”

“Not until you tell me where Poodles is.” Poodles is (June’s) pet name for her granddaughter.”

“Okay, okay, just to get you off my back. Yes, she’s in the alleyway, but she’s supervised. Her new friend who just happens to be *13* is back there with her.”

“Have you checked? Did you follow her out to make sure her friend met up with her?”

“You should have run smack into Bug before you came in.” Bug was Philip Strevor’s pet name for his daughter. He then thought of the spooky trio that switched corners of the building. “*Did* you run into her?”

His mother disappeared. His wife took her place.

“Philip we need to talk. It’s about Casey One Hole. Yankton.”


He wakes up in his ersatz observatory. “Yankton?”

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Filed under *Second Life, ., Capitol City, Gaeta V

stood up

Karoz thinks while waiting: *I* need a mask.

20 minutes later, he’d switched over to the booths, trying again to figure out what these crazy typing style animations mean. Only one animation per booth, only one *seat* per booth. Bad designing, he thinks. A place just kind of thrown together. Baker Bloch could do much better here. Kidd Tower is a seed.

So involved was he with his animation that Karoz didn’t notice Old Grey slipping in and sitting at the front counter. “Bucket of blood,” she requests to the lone attendant. “And put some nails in it.” Karoz recognizes the voice.

She never received her drink. This wasn’t a bar. But she and Karoz caught up. They sat at the counter together.

“Baker Blinker is in Collagesity helping Baker Bloch with some apartment rentals,” he said to the old woman in disguise.

“How’s your love life,” Old Grey asked straighforwardly.

“We manage.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m suppose to meet someone, Old Grey. Uncle Babyface. Why are *you* here?”

“I live here,” she said. “In this sim. Kidd Tower… I’m The Kidd. Billie. Here, stand back and I’ll show you. The dress could poof out in the transformation and put someone’s eye out.”

“Okay.” He hops off the chair and takes a couple of steps away from the counter accordingly, not understanding that Old Grey was joking.

“I just thought of the hair,” she said after changing. Grey to black. Young Black, hehe.”

“It’s quite appealing,” encouraged Karoz Blogger.

“If you were a boy of 10, would you ask me out for ice cream?”


“You were never 10,” she joked again. “You were born old. Old and green. Old Green.”

“Just because I never had a mother doesn’t mean I wasn’t born.”

“Immaculate,” whispered The Kidd. She turned toward Karoz and looked at him squarely. “Jesus. You’re Jesus.”

But Karoz didn’t know that name and told her so.

The Kidd tested him further. “Do you know Superman? Aquaman?”

“Of course,” replied Karoz.

“Green Lantern?”

Karoz whirled around and looked at the poster behind him. “Obviously,” he said while staring at the superhero’s mask again.

“Then you are like the Green Lantern,” cooed The Kidd. She clapped her hands rapidly together and squealed in excitement. “And with a ring!”

Karoz didn’t get a mask that day but he got something else even better — from The Kidd. She just pulled it out of a secret pocket on her babydoll dress. The ring wasn’t exactly legit Green Lantern style but he thought it quite cool anyway and wore it home to Chilbo. Later that night, the town’s giant central tree caught on fire and burned to the ground. It would take weeks to grow another one.

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Filed under *Second Life, ., Jeogeot, Middletown SL


In a dream, Old Grey was hobbling up Alpine Way just beyond the western border of Meribel, heading into the oh so white mountains again. “If I can just reach that bench over there I can rest again,” she says to herself. But it was a struggle, like walking uphill at a 60 degree angle.

Hummie the Hummingbird lept off her shoulder again, trying to encourage. “You can do it you can do it you can do it,” the bird twittered at a rapid fire pace in front of her…


…then sped to the bench to wait. Faintly, Old Grey could still hear it trilling the same encouragement at intervals.


“Halfway there maybe,” she said, panting.



“Jesus Christ.” Her whole body was sweating. “And (wheeze) this is still basically level ground.”



Another round of encouragement from Hummie. “You can do it you can do it you can do it.”



Old Grey died from heart failure just in front of the bench. Behind it, Pop-up Rock had come out of his hole to see what all the commotion was all about. “She couldn’t do it she couldn’t do it she couldn’t do it,” Hummie explained.




Old Mabel woke up.

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Filed under *Second Life, ., Sansara



Wheeler-as-Old Grey was markedly trailing Snowmanster by the time they reached the Cloudmont plateau and its host of stubby, snow laden trees. She felt her complex exterior breaking down. Soon she would not have the energy to even keep up the ancient lady appearance. Snowmanster had changed as well, but not for lack of energy. He was now a man.

Toy avatar Woody Woodmanson watched the two, brisk and brisker, pass by from behind a nearby tree. Snowmanster pretended not to see him; Old Grey *didn’t* see him. Straight ahead was what the white being declared the Purden Castle, where they could make camp for the coming, cold night and catch up with more stories of magical realms. He figured Woody would be joining them at some point, once his shyness receded.

Although he wouldn’t dare admit it, Snowmanster was having a fantastic time on this trip, more fun that he could remember. His sex had changed, which hadn’t happened in quite a while. He *liked* Old Grey. Similar to Karoz before him, he found she had a way to win you over once you get past that sandpaper exterior. She was just powerful and confused at the same time; didn’t really know how to apply all the energy she had — obviously. He thought he could help her. Snowmanster had a new mission, *despite* the fact that Wheeler (as Jerome T. Newton) tried to burn him alive less than two months back. His escape was always in the cards and that’s the important thing to keep in mind, he thought to himself. Was he still playing with fire?

Seeing the castle forming ahead, he then stopped and waited for Old Grey to catch up. She had already reverted back to her core self. Disappointed, Snowmanster saw that the structure had fallen into disrepair. He was hoping to show Wheeler something more substantial.


At the campfire later that night, Woody passed around a snapshot showing how it was.


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“You guys really going to climb that thing?” the cartoon voiced Doughy the Doe Eyed Deer asked Old Grey (a.k.a Wheeler) and Snowmanster standing beside her, the former panting a bit and the latter not atall after their climb further into the snowy hills. Both were staring up at 300+ meter high Mount Shade, trying to figure out the best way to reach the top. Fortunately both had come up with the same plan, or the mountain may never have been conquered this day. You see, Old Grey and Snowmanster had been bickering with each other ever since they met up at the ski lodge on top of that spiral structure several days back. Both were certainly powerful beings. Both had seen their fair share of dark and light activities alike in the realm of magic. It’s just that one still saw value in darkness and the other really didn’t. Their discussion lately had centered around Old Grey’s New Island.


“The woods — plural — have shown me all shades of black and white and grey down through the years, Old Grey,” Snowmanster said at one point along their trek up. “I’ve sampled everything. All Santas have been my lovers, friends, enemies. Where I draw the line is *slavery*. Witchcraft and slavery.”

“It’s not slavery if it is consensual,” countered Old Grey, trying to match the the white being stride for stride still but already struggling just a little.

“I understand it is different for avatars,” returns Snowmanster. “We have to do what we have to do to keep attention. I too am a beautiful being underneath all this outer cover. I am also a tree, a robot, a zookeeper, a pedestrian about to cross a heavily trafficked street. I am all of these things and thousands more. You will not be able to keep up with me.”

“I do want to learn more about those woods,” Old Grey says, trying to hide any signs of being even slightly out of breath.


Back to the present and Mount Shade. “Cloudmont,” states Snowmanster. “Just beyond the far peak. Just on the other side. You’ll see. Have you caught your breath yet?”

“Shut up and get going,” is all she said back. They start up, one just behind the other now.


“Goodbye my old friend… and new friend,” Doughy calls after them. “Careful of the Yeti. It’s mating season.”

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Filed under *Second Life, ., Sansara


Recommended by my friend Veyot, I had already visited the gallery of Karly Twine through Old Grey earlier in the day, but a lingering trace of my avatar’s demonic status ruined the snapshots I took then. So I returned through her late at night. Very late. You see, she was invited by Robot Derak Jones to the New Island Community College faculty dance and stayed until five am cutting the rug. In her younger days she could shake and shimmy for a week solid. Now it was down to mere hours, but more than even the youngest and most fit professors and administrators at the event could handle. In the end she was dancing alone. Typical. I should also add here that the walking cane she favors is only an outfit prop.


Very beautiful photographs here by Karly (who I also met earlier) — go to Veyot’s tumbler site for more information about the gallery — but Old Grey was admittedly more looking for clues about how to move ahead with the “Collagesity 2016-2017 Winter” storyline. Since the parcel was called Da Vinci Gardens, she was hoping for Mars again; instead Karly’s gallery was set in the midst of a winter wonderland. Still, this structure found outside in the ice and snow seemed to knit the two concepts together.


Old Grey had seen a variation of it before on her way to spy on Baker Bloch in Martian Jacksboro this past November. The spiral based building sat on a plateau beside an amphitheater of dancing automatons. Old Grey had landmarked the place and returns every once in a while to prance amongst them, sometimes as a ballerina in the Nutcracker. Very limber bones she has, but of course that has more to do with the demon inside than any exercise regiment.

Up she strides around the building’s external spiral path.


She pauses to take in the view. Snow seems to be getting heavier.


She reaches out to pet this wildcat (Old Grey has no fear) and the feline disappears (!). Shades of Jorondip and its quantum cat here. This is clearly a magical place.


Finally she reaches the top. Even the very fit Old Grey is slightly winded by the long trip up.

Well, tempted as she is, Old Grey hasn’t got time for sledding or skiing. She senses someone inside. An ancient nemesis.


Vicky Diamond? No not you Vicky. But you might come in handy anyway.


Books. Surely not Professor Jones. She’s just been with him and knows his wheezy ways. He wouldn’t have a hideout so difficult to reach.


No, there was only one deity who would summon Old Grey to such environs. Well, two maybe. But turns out it was both. Snowmanster and Satan Santa sat next to each other on the couch to her left, eating popcorn and, hmm, sharing frequent, buttery kisses.


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Hearts 02


She was back at Cry I. but underwater now. Down to a putter: end of hole.


This was the night she met Dr. Low with red and blue eyes. Splitsville.


But first… some lemonade at the conveniently placed Joker’s Wild bar to her left. Old Grey awaits through the Red Door.



“Guess it’s time for that heart to heart, Old Mabel,” she starts. “Lemonade’s on me tonight. Karl!” she then yells, banging her cane on the bar counter. She waits just a second and bangs again. “Rhoda! Whoever!”


“Oh it’s you. ‘Bout time. Well… a 24 oz can of Pabst Blue Ribbon for me and the little lady will have a lemonade. Start a tab.”

“I’m 113 years old, *Old* Grey,” the Martian proclaims defiantly. She then glared at Snowbob behind the counter. The last time she saw the hybrid being was in the mystery cabinet or closet or whatever. She didn’t really like what was happening there, but perhaps it was all a dream.

“Yellow is missing,” he said, staring back. “Replaced by green!”


“He’s right this time, you know,” agreed Old Grey. The Martian now noticed the lemonade already in front of him.



Snowmanster exits the closet.


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